


my guy pretty like a girl

by lesbianchiyo



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Crossdressing, Drabble, Late Night Writing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianchiyo/pseuds/lesbianchiyo
Summary: Takaya pines...and Ren looks really good in a dress.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	my guy pretty like a girl

**Author's Note:**

> if i had to date a boy, i'd date ren. he's pretty, like really pretty.  
>  __
> 
> _chanel - frank ocean ___

* * *

Ren was pretty. Takaya knew Ren was pretty, of course he knew the boy was pretty. He was so, so pretty. He was so pretty Takaya’s heart felt like it was floating in the air above his chest, twisting and turning as it danced nervously. His whole body felt stiff, like…like when he was unsure if the offense would pull a squeeze play or not. This type of stiff muscles and dancing heart were different than the feelings he got during baseball; this time Takaya wanted to hold onto the feeling. He wanted to hold it in the palm of his hands and cherish it…the nervous feeling, the stiff muscles and the pounding heart felt nice almost.

Takaya wouldn’t say he was in love…he wouldn’t call it love. Maybe he had a crush? But anyone would get flustered at the sight of Ren. He was so pretty…most people had problems talking to pretty people, right? Well, it almost felt like the opposite with Ren.

The dress stopped above his knee, the lace underneath falling just a couple inches from the bottom of Ren’s knee. It was tight around his waist, the ribbon in the back big and bouncy, it hung down just below the small of his back.

Takaya had had a fit when the baseball club was left with the theme of a maid café, but now Takaya was the least bit bothered by his own frilly outfit—mind too full of the fabric the twirled around Ren, the puffed up sleeves that were buttoned together with a small patch of lace a couple inches about his elbow. The apron, the lace roses stitched into the bottom, the big ribbon tight around Ren’s waist. Ren’s waist was small, Ren was small.

Ren was feminine, his figure was small…slim waist, and slim legs. The tights…they left everything to Takaya’s imagination. They were tight, bunched up at his ankle—his feet were small too. The buckle of Ren’s dress shoes glared in the classroom’s light.

Ren’s eyes were big, big and brown—they were more…they were like drowning in a pot of honey. A large pot of honey that glistened with excitement, nervousness…wet with unshed tears. Takaya was never the biggest fan of sweets, he wasn’t the biggest fan of honey—it melted against his tongue, stuck in the crevices of his teeth. But Ren’s eyes were like a big pot of honey…Ren looked like he tasted like honey.

Skin soft, cheeks big and round. They were kissable, Takaya wanted to press his lips against the rose-tinted cheeks. He wanted to watch the blush spread, wanted to watch it reach the tips of his ears, dance across his forehead and down his neck.

Down his neck, Takaya wanted to slide a hand around Ren’s waist, hold it there; wanted to see just how small the boy really was. How would his hand fit? What if Takaya was to pull him closer, let their knees touch—he wanted to feel the shake of Ren’s body, hear the nervous breathing. Ren probably smelled like something sweet…like honey.

Ren really was like a pot of honey, soft skin that would melt against Takaya’s kisses. Warm eyes that shimmered in the light and strawberry blond hair—that hinted just a tinge of red at the tips. Just a switch of colors in the dimmed lights, like honey. His hair was…it was nothing but a mess of curls, loose curls—curls that had been brushed out so that they were nothing but a mess of frizz.

The headband was nothing but lace, the design intricate—even more intricate on Ren’s mess of brushed out curls. It was tied beneath his hair, the remaining lace hanging down his neck.

Everything about Ren was so…everything about him was so sweet—so sweet Takaya thought his teeth would rot with one brush of their lips. Ren was a big pot of honey—a big pot of honey Takaya normally wouldn’t look at.

Takaya didn’t like sweets, the way they made him sick—nauseous with the overload of sugar. But Ren was…Ren was a pot of honey he wouldn’t mind getting a sugar rush from.


End file.
